The Saga Begins...

at 5:30pm on December 31st, 2018.
Well, it actually began the Thursday prior with the princely gift of a new phone from the wonderfully generous brother of a dear friend. I desperately needed a new phone because my old one would barely run Amazon Music, let alone the Lyft app. I had to get it unlocked. I received the unlock code at 5:30pm on December 31st, the busiest day of the year for Lyft and Uber and I didn't want to miss it.  It was raining, foggy, and unseasonably warm but that wasn't going to hold up business.
I blazed over to my carrier's store, which closed at 6pm. Made it with ten minutes to spare, but I needed a new sim card because my old one wouldn't fit, the old phone made porting the information over to the new one a hassle...yadda yadda. I left at 6:30pm with a shiny new phone. God bless D at my carrier store! I so appreciate her all over the place! Unforeseen: I was signed out of every single app! Oy vay.
 
I took a ride, and it put me close enough to a friend's house that I could stop in and deliver a jacket that had been left at my house at a holiday get together. I hugged, noshed, made a pit stop, and flew out of there again.

retrieved from  https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjU1_Kugc3fAhUOmeAKHWGfCZQQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=http%3A%2F%2Fpetslady.com%2Farticle%2Fhave-happy-hamster-holiday&psig=AOvVaw2nCNocTXNIVyfeJ2JgRU8D&ust=1546446782285731 on January 1, 2019

From there, it was one ride after the next. As soon as I got back in the car, I got a request from a congenial gentlemen who programs lasers. I dropped him in Phoenixville, and from there got a short ride from a young lady getting off work at the Outback in Royersford. Another rider took me back into Montgomerville. On my way to the location, I saw a flash in the sky. I wondered if it was lightning, the second coming, or perhaps an invasion. It turns out it was a transformer because when I got to the Korean restaurant to pick up my riders, the lights were out and everyone was eating by the light of their phones! I dropped them off on the other side of the highway about five minutes away, and sure enough the lights were out there too. People were pouring out of darkened restaurants. Take a moment to feel for the local businesses that took a financial hit on a holiday.

Another pickup in Montgomeryville took me all the way out into New Hope. On the way, we saw a vehicle that had crashed through a huge wrought iron fence and was sprawled on the huge lawn. Not two blocks away, another car had crashed into some bushes at the side of the road. Probably the result of rain, huge puddles of water, alcohol, and a growing dense fog. I dropped off my riders and checked my map to see where I was in relation to a couple of parties at friends' houses. I was closest to one near Philly, and was tempted to take one more ride but came across yet another accident less than a mile away. A mini van was sprawled across my lane. Another car was off in some trees. There was a large group of college kids standing by the road. I pulled over to see if they were okay and if they had called 911. They were fine, just really bummed. Their plans had taken a crappy turn. Poor kids. At that point, I tapped out for the time being and headed to my friend's house through the rain and fog to ring in the New Year.

I made it with about forty five minutes to minute to a good friend's house in the city. I noshed, had a glass of Santa's Little Helper which was most tasty, and chatted it up with the most fabulous people present. Midnight rolled around, and I was struck amidst the noise how I did not recognize really anyone on the stage in NYC. Then, someone pointed out that it was New Kids On the Block. Well, not so new anymore. None of us are new anymore ;) I hung out until around one, and then blazed out again to take advantage of the spike in ride cost. They were spiking at 300%; I had never experienced that ever, and I would have been a fool not to take advantage of it. 
 
retrieved from  https://c.ndtvimg.com/2018-12/3pgvlh9g_happy-new-year-2019_625x300_30_December_18.jpg on January 1, 2019

Most of my post midnight riders were happy revelers on their way home. One young lady was feeling particularly poignant and requested the Beach Boys Auld Lang Syne. Her sister had just gotten married, and she had spent the evening with old friends and was feeling. Feeling lots. She listened quietly and thanked me for finding the song.

The next two riders were my first one star rating that I have ever given. They were both drunk, which was not the issue. The issue was that they got into my car with open bottles of alcohol and continued to drink in the car. Now, if I was not in the middle of Philly as a single female driver I would have asked them to cap the bottles and put them away until they got to their destination. However, the one was borderline belligerent and was arguing with his son in the front seat. It was a short ride. I could not wait to get them out of the car. Yeah, don't trip up the steps to your abode, creeps.

The last ride was a family of four, and bless them the one son had stayed awake all night. His sister was out cold. Mom and dad were yawning. Little Man said he was going to stay up more, but halfway through the ride I looked back and he was out like a light. A few minutes more, and he was snoring away in the back. Bless him. Luckily, they were only a ways across the city, and it put me in a good position to jump on the expressway and head home. Traffic was light by three, and I rolled into my garage around four.

I had not planned on staying out that late, not by a long shot. But, I earned twice what I usually do in that amount of time. I met some interesting people, got to see two groups of friends, however briefly, and rang in the New Year feeling pretty good. I go back to...the 'S' word....SCHOOL tomorrow. But I actually feel mentally ready. I'll be happy to see them, though it's going to be a physical struggle, lemme tell ya! 

The Saga continues on January 1, 2019.

Happy New Year to all! 



retrieved from https://media.cntraveller.in/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/2019.jpg on January 1, 2018

It's Mine...My Precious...

9/1/18
I made pretty good money driving in a larger suburban area last weekend, so this weekend I tried it again. I headed out early to get some ice cream, meandered down there and got my evening coffee to see me through. I prefer a medium iced coffee with cream and Splenda. It sees me through the dark times as does Donna Summers.

retrieved September 2, 2018 from youtube.com

I have only been driving for Lyft, and now Uber, for about a month. It has taught me more about driving, finding my way, and reminded me about things I had forgotten about dealing with customers in my other life as a retail assistant manager.
Some things have become abundantly clear.
Let me weave this picture for you.
I picked up one of my riders at a mansion. Yes, a mansion. It was hard to find because it was not visible from the road. The rider's nephew walked down the drive describing the front driveway because the location pin was dropped a little further down the road in the app. He was a genial and attractive (I notice these things) man and we started chatting right away.
I pulled up the cobblestone drive and blurted out, "Oh my god, are we at Liam Neeson's house?" (Note: No. I have no idea where Liam Neeson lives. Qui Gon Jinn was just the first guy to pop into my mind.)
You see these kinds of houses on "The Lifestyles of the Rich and Shameless": manicured lawns and hedges, columns, a foyer with a fifteen foot ceiling with a teardrop chandelier, and a white Mercedes parked in the drive. It dripped money. It oozed wealth and tax avoidance. All of a sudden, I felt very under dressed and under...automobiled? We'll go with that.
The nephew explained that he had been at this man's barbecue (what did they barbecue? kobe beef steaks?) and he hoped this man would invest in a project of his devising. He told me that the inside was even more amazing than the outside. I really wanted to see the inside of that house, even though after Dubai it would probably be a pale imitation of truly insane wealth. You can't compete with Dubai, Lord Moneybags.
The elderly lady whom we picked up at the top of the drive was very pleasant. Her nephew helped her in, and I turned carefully in this very narrow, cobble stoned driveway as the valets (yes, valets! hired just for that night!) looked on in horror as I drove on the grass. Hey, lackeys! Tell Lord Moneybags if he can afford this place, he could afford a wider driveway! The nephew assured me it was okay and encouraged me to go ahead and drive on the grass. My tires tiptoed over the grass as if they were crushing fresh dollar bills.
"I hope he still invests in your project after you told your Lyft driver to drive on his lawn,"I joked. We all got a good laugh...but I was kind of not joking. I hope he invests in that nice man's project.
The nephew and I swapped stories all the way to the city about our travels. He spent many years abroad, and his business often took him around the world. From his descriptions of his business habits, I can only assume this man makes twice what I do in a year if not more. I mean, if Lord Moneybags is the kind of investor he is after, yeah he probably does really well for himself!
He told me about Cyprus, a place I had heard so much about but have not managed to get there. It has a kind of Mediterranean romance about it.  I hope I do get there some day. He had a great sense of humor. We both had run ins with gypsies in our travels and lived to tell the tale. His aunt chimed in often, and we just had a really good time. I wondered briefly...nah, guys like him want jet setting eye candy, not sarcastic, witty, nerdy cat ladies.

I can dream.

 retrieved on September 1, 2018 from https://www.onlyexclusivetravel.co.uk/destination/greek-islands-cyprus

I dropped he and his aunt off at their location and we bid each other very pleasantly well. It was not lost upon me that this was one of the nicer neighborhoods in the city. Real estate is expensive there, and the brick houses are well maintained and quite lovely. I checked the app, and at that time in the city it was lighting up like Vegas. I was excited. I did not get to busy areas like this often and was hoping to get good rides and tips.
I did not have long to wait. Within a minute, I had another ride request only blocks away.
This ride was similar in that we had very animated conversation, but that is the only thing they had in common.
For the sake of my readers' ease and to eliminate confusion, I shall refer to my second rider as "B".
I picked up B only about five minutes away, but the change in neighborhood was clear. The houses got smaller, more unkempt, and in various states of disrepair albeit not too bad.
B made his way slowly to my car. He kind of ambled rather than walked. I had pulled as close to the curb as I could on such crowded streets. I verified his identity, and he slowly pulled himself into the car and got comfortable. I offered him water, made sure the car temperature was acceptable, and we got underway. It was going to be a long ride. B informed me that we were going to the north side of the city. I blinked a little, as that is probably the worst area of the city, but hey that was where the ride request went so off we go.
B was a very friendly, talkative man. It was not long before he started telling me about the daily health challenges he faces.
B has MS. He faces intense pain all day, every day. He lives in pain.
He goes to physical therapy, to see doctors, and has received very little in the way of solutions to his pain. His doctor recommends a visit to a neurosurgeon and a back brace. However, because of B's weight the surgery would be high risk with an 82% chance of B ending up in a wheelchair. To further complicate matters, B cannot exercise to lose the weight. He has done his best with diet changes and is doing the stretches as recommended by his physical therapist. I encouraged him to keep plugging away at it and hopefully that will reduce his risk.
He sounded so beat down, but expressed how appreciative he was of his nieces' help. They are his daily carers, both physically, emotionally, and financially. He could not say enough how much he loved them for their help. B also told me all of the things he misses, like cooking at family holidays. He can no longer even cook for himself. I only hope that one day he can do those things again.
It turns out B's biggest challenge is social security. His own doctor has stated that B is unable to stand for over a minute or two, cannot walk over a block, let alone hold down a job. The doctor who makes the recommendation for social security however says the exact opposite. He stated (according to B, he blatantly lied) on the paperwork to the court that B could stand up and sit down, dress himself, and walk several blocks to and from the bus stops. I could just feel B's frustration in his voice.
"Elena," he said on the verge of tears it sounded, "I don't know what to do. I worked all of my life and thank god I saved a little something so I have some savings. But what did I work all my life for? To get sick and lose all my savings to this? What can I do if the social security doctor is going to lie?"
I told him to get out to the polls in November, because the Republicans are going to further dismantle Social Security, Medicaid, and Medicare and make it near impossible for people to get help. He stated that he votes in every election, though it pains him to stand him in line at the polls.

Ever have those moments when you are just plum out of wisdom? Happened to me.

I could tell that B was just a wonderful, cuddly, warm guy. He was good natured and cared greatly for his family. In spite of his pain, he said he just kept at it every day trying to make himself better. It sucked. It really did. I wished I had some information, some strategy, just something that would help him out. I had nothin'.
Now, as we drove the neighborhoods got more and more rundown. Think of any movie ghetto you have ever seen. Except these are real. Graffiti, abandoned cars, crack houses, people loitering on corners. You get the idea. Now, you may think that these neighborhoods are full of  low income druggies, single mothers on welfare, and gangbangers. You're wrong. B, and a whole bunch of other good people who struggle, live there too. This is where I dropped B off.
B is a wonderful guy, and he bid me a cheerful goodnight. I stayed until he got to the doorway, and then I locked the doors and took off because the two guys on the stoop were eyeing my car and I in a way that made me...want to drive away very fast. Maybe I'm profiling. But maybe I'm not. I was so out of there and drove with my pepper spray in my hand watching all windows at red lights. I did not feel comfortable until I was on the expressway out of the city. Overreacted, you say? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
On the expressway, I turned the app to my earnings so I could rate B and the nice aunt and her  handsome nephew.
What? He was! Leave me alone.
 Having explained and described my riders in great detail, I'll just put this here: The aunt tipped me $1 for a forty five minute $20 ride. B, on his meager savings, tipped me $2 for an $11 ride twenty five minute away.
...
Maybe I was tired, but all of a sudden I was incensed.
I was pissed.
Don't get me wrong. The nephew and his aunt were wonderful, lovely, gracious people and the following rant has nothing to do with them. I think the $1 tip was a generation gap thing being that she was well over seventy and B was just fifty. I myself was taught to tip between 15-30% depending on the type and level of service. Tipping is inconsistent in ridesharing on the best of days. Heck, half the time people don't tip the drivers at all.
But something about that $1 tip just blew up in my face and highlighted a hot button issue that my man Bernie keeps shouting about. It just had not been so clear and real until right then.

He's like if Doc Brown from "Back to the Future" and Snow White had a baby.

 retrieved on September 2, 2018 from http://time.com/4272885/bernie-sanders-bird-podium/

It made me think of the wealth inequality in this country. The top 1% have the majority of the money, real estate, and best of everything money has to offer, while the rest of the country carries most of the crippling debt while their wages stagnate. Their kids go to the best colleges and have every opportunity wealth can buy, whereas the middle class incurs huge debt sending their kids to colleges to get degrees required by so many companies and end up with jobs that do not pay enough to pay back that debt in reasonable time. The best parts of our lives are spent with every decision revolving around how it affects the paying off of that college debt.
They keep taking more and more and give so little in return. They extort tax breaks from cities with the promise of jobs and adding the to local economy if the city will let them do business there practically for free. They got billions in tax breaks last year, and yet wages overall did not improve. Google it! (From reputable sources, of course.) The investors bought more stock and trickled that tax break down to the only place money trickles down to which is to their shareholders, not their workers.
How much do they want?
They sit at the tops of their shiny executive buildings Googling vacation houses, buying yachts, and building $10,000 chicken coops because that's the hot trend among the rich folk until they get bored and feed their chickens to their other exotic pets. I have had so many riders that make great money and yet tip paltry sums if they tip at all.
Need that fiver for the gold plating on your toilet seat, do you?
They sit on their piles of wealth like voracious, greedy dragons on their hordes, unwilling to part with a single damn coin or divvy out any part of the mountain of treasure they have stolen. More, more, more! We wants more! It's mine! My own...my precious...

Did anyone else just see some hobbits run past? Something about a ring...

retrieved on September 2, 2018 from https://giphy.com/gifs/the-lord-of-rings-return-king-gollum-ie8I61aEWnJCM

People like me, a teacher with a Master's degree and ten years teaching experience are forced to work until 4am driving for Lyft or Uber on weekends in order to pay off debt and build up any kind of savings. Teachers at my school tutor, wait tables, coach sports, sell Lululemon, and peddle fancy teeth whitening toothpaste because our salaries are not enough. This is on top of the many hours we put in additionally to our time at school. B is unable to work and is dependent on family while being denied the assistance from the system he has paid into with his taxes his entire life.
The current administration just denied federal workers a pay increase saying they just do not have the money. You would, you damn jackasses if you would make that 1% pay their fare share instead of handing them billions in tax breaks! My god! We'd be able to insure everyone in the country with the money they skip out on in taxes every year by dodging, extorting, or hiding money in the Cayman Islands or the Maldives! You complain that we have the highest corporate taxes of any country (not true!), when in fact due to state and city tax breaks so many corporations in fact pay little to no taxes at all.
I'm lookin' at you, Amazon!

Goddamn it.

I shall now get down off my soapbox.

I will not often bore you with a tired, elderberry wine soaked diatribe as I wax rhapsodical about the problems of our economy and the evils of the wealth gap. I merely had a frustrated, exhausted moment last night where I was reminded how real it is.

And how important it is that every single one of us make it to the polls in November.

For me.

For you.

For B.

What Is It With Me and Drunk Welsh Guys?

8/31/18
 I have finished my first week of school. My course load is heavy, and my one class is going to make my life very interesting. They haven't learned that I eat kids like them for lunch, but they will. Very soon. I had headed out to make a bit of cash since I have a long weekend for Labor Day. Long weekends= opportunities for extra money. I wasn't looking for an eventful evening, but on Lyft it is always a possibility.
It happened. I got my first creeper. The first request of the evening was farther out than I expected, but hey every night has to start somewhere.
The GPS took me out into an industrial park hidden out in dark corn fields. I pulled up to a distribution center to see twenty trucks lined up and curving out of sight down the road to make deliveries to this place. My rider was waiting by the side of the road. I verified his identity and he got in. We exchanged cordial greetings.
"I need ATM, you bring me there then back here and I give you ten dollars,"he said as he buckled in. His accent was very thick and made him hard to understand but I got the idea.
Wow, that's a big tip. Ok.
"Are you making a delivery?" I said as I tried to pull around a huge Mack truck jutting out into the roadway.
"Yes," he said distractedly. "They unload now, but I have no cash to pay. I need ATM. You take me, I get cash so I can pay."
"Ok, I'll get you there," I reassured him.
I checked the navigation and saw that we were only going a minute or two up the road to a big shopping center. Still, it was almost midnight. Everything there was closed. I hoped there was an exterior ATM in there he could access.
I pulled into the shopping center, and he began to ask me questions. "Is this downtown? This like downtown? This busy place?"
It was then that I figured he was not local, as this place was a well known fancy shmancy glorified outdoor mall unique only because it was located in the middle of nowhere. And it certainly looked like nowhere because all of the shops were closed, parking lots were empty, and only the street lights illuminated the place. It looked a bit zombie apocalypse-ish.
"Where is it? Maybe other side?" he asked. I could tell he was getting a bit desperate. "Is Wells Fargo?"
Okay, yes, I remembered there was a Wells Fargo somewhere in there. I pulled around the other side and glanced down the block. HA!
"There it is!" I triumphantly turned down the block and pulled up to the ATM. He jumped out, completed his transaction, and jumped back in.
This is where it turned a bit...weird.
I turned the car around and headed back out of the shopping center.
"You drive all night?" he asked.
I get that question a lot, so I answered, "No, I'll probably head home around two."
He was quiet for a second.
"You leave alone?"he ventured.
"Leave?" I was confused. Then, I realized he meant "live". He was asking if I lived alone. First, he asks when I get off work, then he asks if I live alone. He was now leaning in between the seats and looking at me. Moment of realization: I am alone in a dark car out in the middle of nowhere with a man who is asking when I get off work and if I live alone and he has just inched closer to me.
Ladies, you know that feeling. That feeling that you get when a man is hinting at a proposition, and the inkling that he might not take "no, thank you" for an answer.
Creeped.
Out.
"No," I quickly answered hoping I sounded natural. "I live with my husband."
I am a single-crazy-cat-lady-artist-teacher. I spun a tale of my husband who worked at a pharmaceutical company making good money but that we struggled a bit so I had to work extra hours driving. In mere seconds, I painted a picture of a dog loving couple who were happily married and that he was home waiting for me.
The rider listened, and then laughed and said "He like you make more money than him!"
We pulled back up to the distribution center, and the line of trucks was even longer. I had to drive up the wrong way with my caution lights on. As I neared the entrance, he asks me, "You have ten dollars? Machine only give me twenties."
"No," I replied. "Drivers get paid and tipped through the app most of the time. I don't carry cash."
"Through the app?" he was unbuckling his seat belt. "Ok."
So much for my ten dollar tip.
He got out, I said goodnight, and he walked down the line of trucks pulling into the center.
I blazed a trail away from there back to civilization.
I have never been scared when I driving, so this was a first. But as I drove away, I reflected on it. Was I actually creeped out by him, or just the idea that a man was propositioning me? It has been a really long time, though I have to admit it was not in a dark car in the middle of sprawling corn fields. Actually, I'm pretty sure this situation has never happened to me before. I have not dated anyone in years, and it had been even longer since a man seriously hit on me.The worst one was from a Welsh guy in Dubai who drunkenly leaned into me and said "Yer cute. You should come back ta my place an' make me dinner." Apparently, that was what he considered a legit chat up line. Drunk Welsh guys. Sheesh.

Which brings us to our next story of the night.

I drove back toward downtown. It was almost 1am, and usually I am home by midnight but the night had been slow so I wanted to make a bit more money. I parked by a bar and waited a few minutes. The request came in and it was only one minute away.
I pulled up to the bar, hit "arrive" and put my four ways on. I looked around for my rider.
A man standing in the middle of the lane in front of the bar's outdoor tables waved at me to pull up. Alright, you can't walk the ten feet to the car so I am not sitting in traffic as you get in. Fine.
I pulled up, put down the window, and verified his identity. He got into the front seat. Rather, he lurched into the front seat and flumped down. I started to pull away, and the warning sound beeped for him to buckle up. He said something unintelligible and started to fumble for the seatbelt, but then stopped, put the window down and leaned out to yell...something...didn't sound like English...at his friends.
"My team," he smiled at me as he put the window back up and fastened his seatbelt.
I flipped through the navigation to see where I was taking him.
"Itsa Best Western," he slurred as he peered at my phone. "I think."
I suppressed a giggle, "You're not sure?"
Oh, boy. This will be an adventure if he can't remember where he is staying. I pictured us wandering the city aimlessly checking every Best Western in a few miles' radius to find his lodging.
"Best Western," he said again, squinting his eyes at the phone. "One of those."
"There are lots of hotels around here, and more than one Best Western," I told him. "The one nearby is actually situated near a couple of hotels."
He eyed me in a drunken stupor.
"We'll find it," I reassured him with a smile, committing to whatever was going to happen as I began to follow the GPS.
His head went down, and as I drove I wondered if he had passed out. A minute later, his head popped up.
"They're my team," he added to his previous statement. "Those guys."
"Oh?" I encouraged him to elaborate even it if only meant he would not pass out in my car. "What sport?"
Turns out he is a soccer player, or football as it is called in Europe. I asked what team, and he said it was not yet official so he could not tell me. He looked out the window and was quiet for a minute.
"Ok, I'll tell ya," he turned back at me and grinned. "It's Leeds United."
"Oh, for England, then?" I was surprised. He did not sound English, and I had been trying to place his accent. Russian? Spanish? He was drunk, and heavily accented so I was having no luck.
"Yeah, and everyone tonight was so nice an' all tonight," he stumbled over his words a bit, "but they all was acting like I was English and talking to me like I was English. Am not. Am Welsh."
"That's why I can't understand a word you're saying!" fell out of my mouth before I could stop it. "Of course, you're Welsh! I've been to Wales, I should have caught that."
The Welsh are hard to understand when they are sober. All bets are off when they are drunk. And this guy being a footballer, it looked as if he had drunk his weight in beer as footballers in the UK do. Yeah, maybe it is a bit stereotypical but this guy was sure fitting the bill.
Luckily, he was too drunk to catch my faux pas, and said, "Yeah, Leeds United, is my passion. What I live for."
I said I knew very little about football, as I do not follow it though some of my students did. I told him I was a little familiar with Manchester United and Liverpool.
"Where?" he asked.
"Manchester," I repeated.
"Where?" he asked with a silly smile.
"Oh, c'mon," I laughed.
"Don't even talk about them," he said stubbornly.
I mentioned that one of my student's favorite players is Cristian Ronaldo, and he asked if the student was gay because Ronaldo is such a "pretty boy." I had forgotten how strong football loyalties run in the UK. I just left that alone. I can't hold my own in an argument about football. Especially with a drunk Welsh guy.
Well, I have a real live UK footballer in my car. Neat. At least I hoped it would stay neat and he wouldn't lose his dinner in my front passenger seat.
His head went down again, chin dropping to his chest. No snoring. Just quiet.
Quiet for a minute at least, so I could concentrate on driving. I stopped at the red light and flipped forward through the GPS again.
His head popped up.
"There's a red sign," he stated. He looked at me expectantly. He looked so serious, but with a twinkle in his eye.
"Yes, there is," I looked back at him. I was trying not to laugh in his face, this Welsh Captain Obvious. He nodded and looked out the window.
He was fairly subdued the rest of the way, commenting about how it is so busy and noisy. He said Wales was like PA, very green though where he was from was quieter. I told him I had been to Wales, and agreed that PA was similar though noisier.
I pulled into the spot indicated on the navigation where several hotels squatted in the dark off the highway. We drove past an odd assortment of people loitering in the middle of the parking lot.
"What the !@#$?" he blustered.
He looked back at them, and began to look around, "It's one o' these, am sure...(unintelligible)...come have a beer."
Well, let's see if he's alert enough to find his hotel. I had not seen a Best Western, and had driven by two hotels already when I saw a Best Western sign in front of one of them.
"Alrigh, darlin' this is the one," he stated sounding somewhat confident, then not so much, "I think."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "I'll wait if you want to go in and make sure."
He kind of rolled his head over and looked at me, "Nah, I'm sure, love."
He reached out to shake my hand.
"Nice to meet you, darlin," he slurred a bit but seemed genuine. He opened the door and the interior light came on. He started to slide out and then looked back at me, as if seeing me for the first time.
He stuck out his hand again.
Okay. We already did this, but okay.
"Nice meeting you, darlin," he said again.
He slid out of the car, turned around, and held out his hand. Again.
I stifled a giggle.
"Have a good night, love," he said and he turned and looked out at the hotel, then turned back. "It's a thing, like we say 'darlin' and 'love' where I come from like...(unintelligible)."
"Yeah, I know, thank you and take care," I smiled at him. He closed the door. I let him get a few feet before letting out a chuckle.
Then, I got worried about him stumbling into the hotel and checked my rearview mirror, just in time to see him walking between my car and the car behind me. He yelled something at them, put his foot out and kicked their bumper before stumbling off. The guys in the car yelled something at him, but fortunately did not get out of their car to pursue him.
A Welsh-born football hooligan.
Strange things happen in the nexus of the universe where I live at 1am as the summer ends. I noticed some leaves falling on my car as I drove home.I closed my Lyft and Stride apps, rated my passengers, and checked my earnings.

And just has he had promised, the truck driver who desperately had needed an ATM at midnight had tipped me ten dollars. For a four dollar ride.

On the Way Home

8/30/18
I was heading home from coffee with friends around . We've been meeting every Thursday night 10:30pm.since...forever. It's the place where nerdom, fandom, and chicanery collide. I had had a ton of decaf and infantile conversation, so I was wired and figured I would catch a Lyft on the way home if I could. Just when I thought I wasn't going to get anyone, a request came in that was blocks from home.
I pulled up to the stop and clicked "Arrive" and I didn't have to wait long. A man exploded out of the front door of one of the row homes angrily swinging a couple plastic shopping bags. I verified his identity, and as he got in he said "Yeah, she threw me out and I ain't going to jail for no woman."

Well.

Okay.

That's a little tense. Apparently she had also put in the wrong address, so he was a little miffed that he would have to guide me once the navigation got closer. So to ease the tension, I made sure he was comfortable and turned up the AC and offered him a bottle of water. After a few minutes, he had calmed down a bit. We chatted, and he told me he worked at a local college. He was amazed at my lack of knowledge of the city. He had been living there for fifty years, his whole life, and knew everything there was to know about it.
"Yeah, she threw me out. She mean when she been drinkin'," he said ruefully from the back seat. "We was supposed to go out, too."
"What was the argument about, if you don't mind my asking?" I asked carefully. Never can be too sure with riders as to how personal a conversation can go.
"She wanted me to make a call on my cell phone," he began,"and I said 'You got a cell phone. Why don't you make the call?' And she didn't like that."
"That was all?" I cocked my head a bit in incredulity. I probably looked like one of those dog memes. Thank god it was dark.
"Yeah, I was going to walk back, 'cause I ain't dealin' with all that," he laughed.
I checked the app. He was going fourteen minutes into the city.
"I'm glad you are not," I said. "It's too far in the dark at this time of night. You might get mugged or something."
"I ain't afraid of nothin' in this town," he shook his head. "Been living here fifty years, I know everything there is to know. I got nothin' to be 'fraid of."
"Yep,"he continued after taking a drink from his water bottle. "She got all mad, screamin' and stuff. It was almost like she wanted me to hit her. But I been raised not to hit no woman. And I ain't goin' in the hole. No sir."
I checked the rearview mirror and could see he was staring out the window.
"No sir," he said again quietly. "I ain't goin' in the hole again."
I assumed he was referencing jail time, as "the hole" is a euphemism for jail at least in our area of the world. He seemed like a nice man to me, and I could not imagine him in jail. But hey, a lot can happen in the city in fifty years.
He was quiet for awhile. I tried to think of something positive to say, though I am no expert on relationships. Actually, I'm pretty sure I am relationship challenged. Still, I like to think of myself as a positive person and I did not want him to go home looking so defeated.
"Well," I ventured. "She cared enough to call you a ride."
I could tell he was thinking about it.
"Yeah," he said after a minute. "Yeah, she did."
He directed me to his drop off, we said goodnight, and I wished him luck.

The Late Night Lyft of Peter Sellers

I picked up a very nice couple from a concert down at the Sands SteelStacks around 11pm. They were happily drunk and had had a very good time. They spotted me first, walked up, and began to get in the car before I saw them. There were people coming from everywhere, cars pulling out in all directions after this concert, and then my car door opens and people start getting in. Very disconcerting, but after I confirmed the riders' names it was cool.
Neither were from the area. The gentleman was Australian, and his wife was from NJ. They lived in Cherry Hill. They chatted about the concert as I weaved us through heavy traffic toward the 2nd Street Bridge. Somehow, we got on the conversation of Peter Sellers. I don't know how these things happen, they just do. As we crossed the bridge, we talked about how awesome he was as Inspector Clusoe in the Pink Panther films. The gentleman talked about other films I hadn't seen. It was generally agreed that he was an amazing, though unorthodox actor. I told them my absolute favorite Peter Sellers' performance was actually on the Muppet Show. He never left character. This Australian guy and his wife were just enchanted with this idea and he started looking for it on YouTube. I dropped them off at the Hotel Bethlehem after recommending a bar or two (I can do that now!) and wished them a good night.

And now...
Peter Sellers.

ER...Wait...What?!

8/16/18
Picked up a quick Lyft on my way home from coffee. A whole bunch of nerds meet for coffee every Thursday night, and have done so for years. Tonight was no different. On the way home, I quick flipped open the app and figured I would do a turn through downtown to see if I could catch a quick Lyft rider before I crawled into bed for the night. It was 11:30pm, and as I'm a Cinderella driver by choice on weeknights I had a good half hour to get a ride. It had been slow all week since Musik Fest ended, so it was a shot in the dark.
I was driving downtown for maybe a few blocks when the request came in. I was elated so I quick veered off and followed the navigation. She was only a few minutes way. I pulled up outside the address and as is my habit gave the rider a call. The street was dark, the neighborbood a bit sketchy so I wanted to get her in the car ASAP.
It was a middle aged woman who stepped out of the house. She was dressed like she was going to work or something. Didn't think too much of it. As she approached the car, I opened the window, verified her name, and unlocked the doors. She was on the phone when she got in the car. and I heard her say "I'm going to the ER."
My eyebrows flew up to the sky. Eyes widened. Checked the destination and sure enough yeah, headed to St. Luke's! I got a bit anxious, wondering if she was hurt, having a heart attack...are we having a baby?! I had to wait until she was off the phone. That was a very long two minutes.
"So, you're going to the ER. Are you okay? (Dumb question!) Can I make you more comfortable?" I asked tentatively.
Are you bleeding all over my back seat? I kept that thought to myself.
Nah. Turns out she cut her finger and it was swelling so she wanted to get it checked out. She had been using a knife to pry something and it had slipped. It had stopped bleeding, but it had begun to swell. She had asked her teenage daughter and some other family member to go with her, but they bailed. Crappy thing to do, honestly. She even questioned whether it was necessary herself, but I told her that if it's swelling now imagine what it will look like in a few hours. I asked her if she had cleaned the wound, and she said she had not done so right away. There might be something in the cut I told her so it is really best to get it checked out. Septicemia is nothing to be sneered at. A friend of mine had nearly died from it. She agreed it was a good precaution to get checked out.
Then I started to wonder if she had thought if her insurance was accepted at this particular hospital, and offered to drive her to another emergency room if this one did not. She thanked me and affirmed that this was her hospital, though they would probably charge her out the nose just to wash the cut. I dropped her at the ER door and wished her good luck.
A fellow driver shared with me later that it's cheaper to take a Lyft or Uber than to take an ambulance. Maybe I should start carrying a med kit. #uplyfted

Playing Catch Up

8/15/18
On the way home from gaming, I figured it is quarter to midnight so let's see if we can snag a quick Lyft or two before going home. Now, my rule is to usually be in by midnight or close to. But the ride that came in as soon as I crossed into downtown Bethlehem was from 19 ish looking kid who was 18 minutes away in Nazareth. As a Lyft driver, you have 15 seconds to decide whether or not you're going to accept a ride request. So in 15 seconds, I decided that if I was the closest driver at 18 minutes away at close to midnight if I refused this kid could be waiting by a dark Walmart in the rain for God knows how long. So I accepted the ride request and headed over to Nazareth to pick up this nice young man who is starting his second semester at Northampton Community College next week. He hopes to move to Tennessee to continue at the University of Tennessee for engineering. I didn't think I'd get another ride on the way back from dropping him off at Easton but sure enough a few minutes later another request came in. Looking at the clock it was well after midnight but figuring I was out already and not tired I might as well. It turned out he was just a nice man who wanted a lift down to the bar to pick up a six pack and then drive him back home. It's a heck of a thing to be sitting outside of a gentlemen's club at 1 a.m. I locked the car doors until he came back. On the 2 minute ride back to his place he told me how he worked at the airport and his wife, a phlebotomist, wanted to continue her education so that she could make more money but was freaking out financially because of the cost of more education. I told him the midterm elections are going to be the most important election yet because the people we elect will directly impact the future for people like she and I (me as a teacher with 10 years teaching experience and a master's but with wages stagnated). I dropped him off at home with his six pack and bless his heart he gave me a $5 tip for a $5 ride. #uplyfted

8/11/18
Lyft! Where you meet interesting people! A lovelorn young man who misses his Pakistani boyfriend, and a lovely lady who gave me a $10 tip for a $4 ride because she was afraid to walk the 3 blocks home and got all panicky because she had some trouble finding me in the mess of people outside the bars. I promised her I wouldn't leave until I found her.
The young man of about 24 shared a particularly sad story. He had had a lover, a man he misses very much. The lover was Pakistani. This reference is made due to the cultural implications later on. The rider said that his lover's father thought they were just friends. He had no idea his son was gay. Now, I'm not up to snuff on my Apple knowledge, but apparently an Apple user's devices are linked and share information. Well, the father of his lover decided to go through his son's IPad and found pictures from his son's phone that apparently appeared there because the devices are linked. Yes, they were those kind of pictures. The young man went on to describe how his lover's father lost his mind. Being apparently conservative and religious, he packed his son back off to Pakistan where he forced him into an arranged marriage.
Poor boy. He loses his lover, and his lover loses his life to a woman he has never met until their wedding day and is expected to have a life with her that conceivably he does not want. And he's expected to do it out of respect for his family.
I currently choose to live the rockin' single life where I walk around my house in my underwear, drink wine whenever I want, and binge Twin Peaks or The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. I cannot imagine losing the freedom to choose my own life, let alone my own love. Count your blessings, children.

8/9/18
What I've learned so far now that I'm over ten rides in:
1. Water is much appreciated by riders during the summer and after a night of drinking. I keep small bottles in the pockets of the organizers on the back of the driver and passenger seats.
2. Sanitizer and tissues are godsends. If you want to keep your car clean, keep your passengers clean.
3. Don't be shy about telling them you're a new driver. That way, if you make a mistake they're more likely to be forgiving.
4. Some people just can't be pleased. A young lady who was in a strop with her man (who was higher than a kite if I care to hazard a guess) gave me a 3 star rating because I went up and around a block so I could pick her up on the right side of the street and she didn't have to cross. I believe she was angry with her boyfriend and just wanted to punish someone. It just happened to be me.
5. If you are a female driver, carry pepper spray. Rather, carry gel because as another driver/ blogger says, it won't go all over you and your car if you ever have to use it.
6. Let me qualify number 5. Ladies, the crowd changes after midnight. If someone is there until the bar closes, they are hardcore. Possibly skunk drunk and prone to stupidity. Can we handle it? Yes. Do you want to? Answer that for yourself. My answer most nights is hell no.
7. Sick bags. Haven't had to use them, but they're necessary. You won't always get the chance to get over to the curb for the rider to get sick outside the car. Be proactive. Sick Bags for a Good Price
8. Don't drive around forever looking for a ride. It's not worth the miles. Do the research. Look for venues with events. Find the bar district in your area. Locate the closest airport, bus terminal, and train stations. Travel hubs. If you want this to be effective, you can't be wasting gas driving around all over town looking for rides. Didn't get much? It happens. Go home and give it another shot on another day.
9. Don't cancel the ride after you've arrived. Make them do it. They will try to get you to so they don't have to pay a fee. A rider called after I arrived and told me she had a child, but no car seat. She said the child was two years old. In PA, that's illegal. If you can't leave a PA hospital with a newborn without a car seat, you can't take a child who requires a car seat if the rider doesn't have one.
"I work long hours, I can't be carrying no car seat with me!" Well, you're the parent. If you want to take a chance with your kid's life, that's your prerogative. I won't be a party to it. But being inexperienced, she asked me to cancel the ride and I did. Rookie mistake, but small compared to the one I could've made by taking a child in my car without a legally required car seat.
10. Don't be too hard on yourself. Mistakes will be made. Life is nothing if not a learning experience.

8/8/18
Kesha sang at Musikfest. Downtown was wall to wall people! They were walking in big groups down the sideswalks, walking out between cars, and gods help me they were walking into traffic from all directions to get to where they parked. My rider was young. From her profile pic, I could tell that she was maybe 20 if she was a day. I go around the back of the SteelStacks to the Lyft/ Uber pick up area, and it was packed. There were police, guys directing traffic yelling at cars, and at least 10 rideshare drivers in the traffic circle trying to pick their riders out of the crowds leaving the concert. I am not a Kesha fan, but damn does she draw a crowd! I had my rider on the phone. I've gotten into the habit of just automatically calling them as soon as I arrive. I was trying to describe my car, I had my four way lights flashing, but there were so many people crowded into the drop zone that we just couldn't see each other.
"What if I can't find you?" she asked in frustration after a few minutes.
"Don't worry," I assured her. "I am not leaving until I find you. I might get arrested, but I will find you!"
"Ok, I'm walking toward the edge of the curb now. I have a big glowstick. I'm waving it!"
"Is that you jumping up and down with the pink glowstick?" I shouted over the crowd as I saw this tiny glowing figure bouncing up and down from across the traffic circle.
"YES!"
I opened the door, got up on Eve's running board, and waved like a lunatic.
"Back in your car!" a man with an orange vest and even louder voice boomed.
"I'm sorry, I just wanted my rider to see me!" I apologized.
Here comes this very young lady all by herself with this huge glowstick wearing skinny jeans, a rain jacket, and a relieved looking smile. She had not found any friends to go to see Kesha, so she had gone by herself. She starts her next semester at college in a few weeks.

                                          Not a Kesha fan, but I love this song!

8/4/18
If I learn nothing else from Lyft driving, at least I have a growing mind map of Bethlehem and Allentown! And that trying to find your riders during Bethlehem MusiK Fest is challenging to say the least! That is an ocean of people, holy cow! I felt like I was back in Beijing. The biggest challenge is that the app doesn't always put the pin in the right place. It dropped the pin back on Founder's Way by the entrance to the SteelStacks, but the rider was up on 3rd St. at the corner. Musik Fest is pretty strict on where Uber and Lyft can pick up and drop off, so I was in the designated drop zone which is a traffic circle at the SteelStacks entrance. I called my rider, a young 20-something lady whom I could tell had had a good night. She was getting agitated because she couldn't see me. I assured her that I would not leave until I found her. I kept describing the car, and finally I opened my door and stood up on Eve's (my Subaru Crosstrek purchased on All Hallow's Eve ;) running board phone in hand looking around for this person. Then I see her. A lovely, 20 something young lady pelting down the sidewalk toward the car phone to her ear.
"Oh my god, is that you running toward me?" I laugh it looks so ridiculous.
"YES! Thank God, I see you!"
I see a man about ten feet running behind her.
"Is that your boyfriend that you're outrunning?"
"Yeah, he's not important," she giggles breathlessly.
"Aw, we might want to take him along," I cajole.
They were a very nice, happily inebriated couple. We had fun conversation, and they left a generous tip. #uplyfted

8/1/18
Started Lyft driving tonight! Only had 4 rides, but I'm just learning. It was fun! Met a builder in town for a project at the mall, a mom and her daughter on the way home from Chuck-E-Cheese, warehouse worker who overslept and needed a ride to work for the night shift, and a very nice young lady working at a local strip club. That was three hours that were very interesting! My first ride was the builder, and I truly thought I was going to have a panic attack until I found him. Note to self: Lehigh Valley Mall is a big place, but not really. Second note: It's okay for a kid to eat their cotton candy in the car, but have sanitizer on hand. Third note: Strippers work hard for the money.

Driven To This Point

Sonar and I have accomplished A LOT since I posted back in 2013. I had just finished one of the most amazing chapters in my life traveling and teaching abroad. I am now 40, starting my fifth year of teaching high school literature, reading, and art, and just celebrated the one year anniversary of the purchase of my first home. I'm single, a lone wolf with a terrorist cat, and quite comfortable with my situation.
Here is the irony.
Irony is the spice of life, kids!
With ten years teaching experience, a Master's degree, and five years in at a public school district, I am still struggling to make ends meet. Bernie Sanders, I am your poster girl for someone with a good job, excellent education, and stagnated wages! So, I had to find a job that would be flexible enough that I could teach, work on my art, not lose my social life to a second job: enter Lyft.
Trust me, I agonized. I read blog posts. I checked reviews on Indeed. I'm a teacher. I researched the hell out of it. That's what we do. We overthink things until we drive ourselves nuts, plan for all contingencies, and only then do we move forward cautiously. I finally got up the courage to apply, and off I drove.
The jury is still out on whether or not this is financially worth it. We'll figure that out as we go. Until then...I am Uplyfted.
Come along for the ride.

Well, I'm home.

I'm reminded of Samwise Gamgee when he returned home after seeing Frodo and Gandalf off at the end of the Lord of the Rings.

"Well, I'm home."

Some things had changed. Mostly, things at home had stayed the same. But he had changed forever.

Yeah, it's kind of like that.

Leaving was ridiculous. I've never been that stressed out in my life. Selling everything in my apartment, while packing and continuously re-packing my suitcases and paring down my belongings and simultaneously giving final assessments, packing my classroom, and preparing my files for the next teacher. Taking care of my final bills, closing my bank account, and prepping the apartment for handover. All the while, fears and paranoia my constant companions. Fear of losing part of my gratuity because the facility manager hadn't done something. Fear of not being able to cash my check, not being able to transfer the money at the transfer office, of being stopped at the airport and forbidden to leave because I was missing an important document or something.

I had pushed off the goodbyes and tears until the last minute and had informed my students I was leaving, but it wasn't real until the last day of school. And then the tears just started flowing and wouldn't stop. I wasn't prepared for the cry of sadness that went across the auditorium when I stood with the other departing teachers and our leaving was announced. One of my students was so distraught that she had to be taken off the floor. I wasn't prepared for that, when she hugged me and looked up with her little tear filled eyes just so sad. And then they all started coming up and hugging me and saying goodbye, just these ocean of little sad faces. Man, I was a mess. I took a moment to flee the building and drive back to the hotel to get something. Saying goodbye to my friends was just as hard. We'd become a family, a support group, and close knit team. Virtually everyone I came to Dubai with was departing with me to different ends of the earth, save three people who will continue on in Dubai for awhile. They each took a little piece of my heart with them.

I felt like an alien for my first two weeks home. The first couple of days were rough. It felt like someone had switched the lenses in my glasses, everything was fuzzy. It also felt like it was in hypercolor; I was so used to a brown landscape and all of sudden my field of vision was filled with color like Dorothy going from Kansas to Oz. Hearing everyone speak English in American accents just seemed to flood my ears. Eventually, as I hung out with friends doing the usual things like gaming, movies, and tubing, I began to feel more acclimated. It's going to take awhile, though. There are things I miss about being overseas, but I don't regret coming home. It was time.

Since I have been home, I've been searching high and low for a job teaching. I had known that Philly had laid off tons of teaching staff, but I hadn't know that the Archdiocese had done the same. Along with the tons of new teachers that graduate every May from the local universities, this area is saturated with teachers looking for work. I have had over six interviews, for which I am very grateful. To this date, I have accepted a part time position teaching ESL at one school and also signed up with a substituting agency. I am still interviewing, with the hope that a full time position will become available. Until then, I am very thankful for what I have available. The part time position is at a very nice school although the pay is rock bottom. The staff have been lovely; I really hope that position turns into a more lucrative opportunity. Until then, my theme song is "So I apply, so I apply, so I apply!"

I've never been without a job. It's scary and frustrating. I've been very depressed these last two weeks. It weighs heavy on my shoulders this feeling of shiftlessness. None of the positions I have interviewed for offer any kind of benefits. One of them doesn't even take taxes out. Still in this economy with the shortage of teaching positions and overabundance of teachers I am lucky to have found what I did. I am thinking of applying to other states next May, and I don't rule out the possibility of going overseas again though I recoil a bit at the thought of more airports and planes. Still, I am sure that I did the right thing because of the quality time I have been able to spend with friends and family. I've gotten to hang out with my little niece and see my older niece as well as my aunt and cousins. So I trundle along, applying and seeking out opportunity.

If opportunity comes a-knockin', she'd better be holding a steady paycheck, benefits, and a beer.

Shake it shake it SHAKE IT!

As my time winds down here in Dubai, I'm trying to squeeze in some last minute experiences. Brunch at the Al Qasr, a trip to the Al Nayhan mosque in Abu Dhabi, and some another yacht cruise with friends. An earthquake was not an experience that I was hoping to have before I left.

We didn't feel last week's tremors that radiated from Iran. Some people in the outer parts of Dubai did, but not much. So I wasn't looking for anything exciting. Today had been a busy day. I was sitting reading my email, listening to the high school girls next door chatting away and my friend drag her class through their tasks. Suddenly, the door next to me leading to the next classroom began to shake. At first I thought it was the high school girls being cheeky. And then I heard their confused yips as the room began to shake.

I've never felt anything like it. The door rattled like a poltergeist was shaking it. The walls shook. The floor rumbled as if a huge truck were driving through our classroom. My chair trembled as if someone were shaking it roughly to wake me up. I was awake alright! The lights flickered, and the students looked around wildly.

After about 8 seconds, it stopped. We all just kind of looked at each other "Did that just happen?!"
"Was that an earthquake?"

You read about it in the news. Friends tell you about their experiences. And then it happens to you. Nope, there's no preparing for that. Honest to God, I am still shaking a bit inside. I checked the news; within minutes it was all over the UAE news sites saying that the quake had originated on the Iran/ Pakistan border with every number from 7.5 to 8.0. Iran already has a death toll and it's climbing. Friends of friends are reporting all over that their buildings were evacuated. Someone swears she saw the Burj Khalifa sway back and forth. Not sure about that, but I'm still swaying a bit that's for sure!

https://www.facebook.com/elena.holmes.33/posts/10200866232315628?comment_id=6191980&offset=0&total_comments=7&notif_t=feed_comment

Now that I've had this experience, and I'll admit that I've been curious about earthquakes, I can freely say under no circumstances do I need this experience repeated. I'm good, thanks!

The Road Goes Ever Ever On

Ever since my feet touched Dubai's hot sand this past August, I've felt that I had a decision to make this year. Granted, I've been in that position before, but this time I rather felt it in my heart of hearts if you will. There just seemed to be little hints everywhere. Changes in staff dynamics and school policies, friends deciding to move on, and personal events at home all played a part in the decision. Just lots of little things.

Well, some not so little. Some were rather depressing, disheartening, and downright outrageous. No, I shall not go into detail because it's personal or I'll just get all wound up all over again. But also things that didn't get to me before were starting to bother me. Children riding in front seats in laps with no seat belt or car seat (common with locals here), inequity of consequences for crimes (a local man guilty of manslaughter gets three months while a couple caught kissing in public gets jailed for a year?!), the heat, the crazy driving, the rundown neighborhood the teachers are housed in, the money making schemes of a for-profit school, the frustration of any kind of contact with the infrastructure, the inability to queue for just about anything, having to have a license to buy alcohol, not having freedom of speech (you don't realize how much you treasure it until you don't have it!) just to name a few. No, those things didn't bother me before. They're just a part of living in Dubai. Nothing can be done about it. It's just the way it is. And then I realized I'm done. That doesn't work for me anymore.

http://travel.aol.co.uk/2013/01/25/couple-caught-kissing-on-dubai-beach-jailed-for-a-year/

It was my trip home at Christmas that really helped me make the decision. I stood in the kitchen looking out the window on Christmas Day morning looking out at the snow as I sipped my coffee. Homestar was rubbing against my legs. Christmas Eve had been spent eating cookies, watching Christmas movies, and tracking Santa with my niece on NORAD's website. I was thinking about how much she had grown. She's going to be in fourh grade next year. It occurred to me that aunts cease being cool once they become teenagers. Taller, smarter, and much more a part of the world around her. My other niece, well, she didn't really remember me all that much. Not even from the summer. And that bothered me. A lot. More than I thought it would. A cardinal landed on the snowy bush outside the kitchen window, as if waiting to have his picture taken for a Christmas card. I thought of how lovely the backyard would look in autumn, that golden brown back-to-school time of year when the leaves are falling and my friends are all gearing up for Halloween. I wanted that. Fall. Crisp breezes, carved pumpkins, and that lovely smell of damp decay as the leaves decompose on the ground to feed the soil. I figured then and there that I was ready to come home though for a couple of weeks I did entertain other ideas. But when it came time to handing in my letter of intent, my sure intent was set on home.

I'll admit, I've gotten some crazy looks from my teacher friends when I tell them that I'm going home. "Don't you want another contract?! Don't you want to travel more? Isn't this what you want out of life?" No, yes, and no. For some people, yes, country hopping is a career. I've enjoyed my time in Dubai, loved traveling. But I've grown tired of planes and packing and weary of airports. For right now, I can't think of any other place I'd rather live than home. Don't get me wrong. That might change. Going abroad is an option and if I don't find a solid job at home I will be looking for another international contract at the end of next year. For now, my feet are leading me home.

You know what's funny? Some teachers have actually been rather envious that I'm going home. I am rather lucky, being single with no children. I've got a lot of options. Some people are kind of stuck here because their spouses have good jobs here and the jobs at home are sketchy. It's hard to move around if you've got a family with children. I have a feeling more teachers would go home if they could, but their situations are complicated. I'm fortunate and I'm thankful for that. Some of the staff and parents have been kind enough to let me know I'll be missed. The best statement came from one of my Arabic staff friends. She said "WHO SAID YOU CAN LEAVE?! I KEEL YOU!" That's love.

And so now I sit in limbo. Not many jobs are posted in the Phildelphia area yet and won't be until April or later. My PA application is updated. I am also open to positions in other states on the East Coast. Heck, even the West Coast is closer to home than Dubai. I've heard good things about Portland and Seattle. I can't sell any furniture yet except for the odd shelf. I have arranged for Sonar's flight home in early April. I figure once she flies out I will start the dismantling process. Does anyone else get a mental picture of this cat showing up at the airport with a suitcase and little passport?

I will miss my friends here. I have worked with a very gifted and dedicated staff. My students for the most part are wonderful. I have made some very good friends in Dubai that I have enjoyed spending time with. Thank God for Facebook so I can still keep up with everyone even after I leave. I hope to visit friends abroad still. I have friends all over the globe now. And as I've said, I'm not done traveling. I just want to be able to go home when I'm done :)

So in a couple of months, I will start to slowly let my life in Dubai go. May and June are going to be busy as I get rid of my things, apply to jobs, and hopefully score some interviews. I am looking forward to spending time with my family and reconnecting with my friends in the US. And being a nerd again. Like I ever stopped, but one kind of has to go Nerd Incognito in Dubai as they are few and far between here. One has those moments when one says something like "Ha! You rolled a one on your Charisma there!" and the Mundanes just kind of...stare. Or perhaps one makes it known that she has read "The Hitchikers Guide to the Universe" and someone asks if it's a new romance novel. Wicked Faire, Faerie Con, Steampunk World Faire, Pennsic, miscellaneous other nerdfests...sigh...hopefully I'll make it to some events to nerd out with my buddies.

Now to ponder, organize, and sketch out as much of my exit strategy as I can for now.

The road goes ever ever on...

Falling from Summer

As a teacher, we look forward to summers like children look forward to Christmas. We go and go and go at full steam ahead for 180 days so we can have those summer months off. Still, who are we kidding? We end up doing school work, planning, and making stuff for class anyway. But in between those times, I try to spend as much time goofing off as possible!

I have to say that the summers I have spent home in the last couple of years have been some of the best in my life. I so enjoy the time I spend at home with family and friends. This summer was fantastic. I didn't have much planned, except to enjoy people's company and attend a long anticipated friends' wedding. The bachelorette was a hoot and a holler. I need my own Russian masseuse. He had such nice hands... And then came the wedding day. I've never been so happy to be drafted to hold someone's train. My face hurt, I was smiling so big. We toasted, got toasted, and were quite merry. Soooo happy for them, really. It's about time. I also got to go tubing, made dinner for friends, and went to a local carnival.

I was quite happy that I got to spend so much time with my little brother. He had joined me in Scotland, and now when I dream of travelling he's usually with me. We got to prowl around a bit, go hiking with some friends, and generally shoot the @%$#. Saw a movie, got ice cream, went out to lunch, whatever we had time for. Twas awesome.

Admittedly, I am happy doing just about anything as long as my friends and family are there. That's what I really look forward to in the summer. Sure, travelling is life altering and full of positive and tasty experiences. But on the inside I've got this little clock ticking down the days until I see the people I love. While I was home this summer, in addition to registering for an absentee ballot I made the decision and bought my tickets home for Christmas. Some people I work with say "Aw, it's not worth it to go home for such a short time" but I heartily disagree. I spent a holiday away from home, and though it was interesting and fun it can't replace the familiarity and comfort of home at Christmas. I want to be home, on the couch with Mom and my siblings watching the Grinch and eating goodies while the nieces take the living room apart and pound up and down the kitchen like little chaos fairies.

And now I'm back where I was last year this time. I have a decision to make. Everyone was asking me all throughout summer and as soon as I got back my coworkers were asking as well. What am I going to do at the end of this school year??

Question of the year, that is. I'll get back to you on that one.

France: Open Mind and Open Mouth

I have to say that summer was amazing. So sorry this post comes so late. I have to admit that I was scared on my way to France. I had rented a car ("We only have ze BMW, is zees ok? Same price as small car. Oh sure, if I must), organized my accommodations, printed out directions, and was planning to drive around for nine days until I met my mother in Paris. I was in Heathrow, thinking I could easily just have changed my tickets and gone to spend time with my friend in Liverpool instead of trying to navigate the twists and turns of France by myself. But no, would never live with myself. I guess what was really bothering me was my French language deficiency. I spoke enough Italian to get around, I can get away with some Spanish. French? No, not my strongest suit. But hey, I figure if you can say 'Hello', 'Goodbye', 'Please', 'Thank you', and 'Where is the toilet?' you can get around in any country. Politeness is an international passport. So, off I went.

First and foremost, they drive on the right. No problem there. Second, Paris traffic is absolutely a nightmare. It took me two hours on the ring road around Paris in bumper to bumper traffic just to get out of it. When it finally opened up into open road, I was left fumbling for change trying to figure out which toll lane to get into. Thank god for the pictures above the booth. I went for the one with the picture of money above, and it was a self service. From there on, I had no issues driving anywhere. Got the difficult part down. Sure, I couldn't read any of the traffic warning signs. It could have said there were UFO's mutilating cattle up ahead, and I would have driven along blissfully ignorant. No worries. Driving in France is all good.

What I was struck by was the open space. Fields as far as the eye can see. Wide open spaces filled with sunflowers, vineyards, corn, and grains. Small towns that you can spot on the horizon because their 15th century church spires call your attention. And most of rural France is small towns. And when I say small it means that there is one main road and you are through the town in less than three minutes.

Amboise was my first stop. It was the home of the kings and queens of France, as well as the last home of Leonardo Da Vinci when he was in the service of Francois I. I loved his home, Le Clos Luce. Quiet, with huge gardens and ponds. I was one of the first people there that day. Even the museum guides in their chintzy medieval costumes hadn't arrived yet. Felt like it was just me, following Da Vinci's echo through old hallways. Old faded tapestries, huge fireplaces, and tall dark wood chairs still occupy his rooms. In the basement are replicas of some of his inventions alongside copies of his sketches. The man was a visionary genius. He invented a double hull for ships. Would Titanic had sunk if we had started using and evolving that technology sooner? Paddleboats, suspension bridges, the ball bearing...and weapons. He was paid a lot of gold by royalty to invent weapons. I really think it was his bread and butter. There were smaller replicas of those in an adjoining building. One of them was particularly nasty, a chariot with scythes on the wheels designed to cut enemies off at the knees. Out in the gardens were full size replicas of some of his inventions. The one I enjoyed most was the tank, which when you turn the wheel it will spin a full 360 degrees. You can see through the slits, and I would assume fire arrows and the like. Yeah, I giggled like a maniac as it was just me around so I spun around in there for a good five minutes. At the castle of Amboise, Da Vinci is buried in the chapel marked by a bronze slab bearing his name and image. That's all. Nothing huge or showy. The castle overlooks the Loire river valley. You could see people coming for miles. That, and it's just a wonderful view of such a lush green place.

Lascaux was pretty cool in the Dordogne valley. Ever see those cave paintings in books of mammoths? I saw those. Lascaux itself had to be closed due to the damage to the paintings, so bless their little French hearts they replicated the caves exactly so people could still see the paintings. They are indeed the most clear and colorful cave paintings I have ever seen. The sophistication is amazing, how they used such simple lines to convey movement. I saw a second cave at Rouffignac, which was original. The area itself is set so far back from the road in the middle of this primeval ancient pine forest that there is only one single lane road in and out. I was lucky, I got one of the last tickets available for the day. I also didn't realize how far back into the cave it was. The train takes guests on a 15 minute ride back into the caves. The walls are covered with thousands upon thousands of claw marks from cave bears. Can you imagine being an ancient human, armed with a torch and a stone knife wandering back into these caves knowing that you might run into an eight foot tall cave bear? Yikes. Unfortunately, none of the tours were available in English. All I could do was look around and try to listen for words I knew. Most of these mammoths were black outlines. However, the image that the cave is known for are a parade of mammoths carved into the walls. It's unknown what these images were for or who did them. It's thought that perhaps they were magical or religious, carved by shamans or holy people. I enjoyed a rather lovely meal at my hotel of fresh fish, a pear and pork salad, and heavenly profiteroles (round cream filled puff pastries) with a homemade chocolate sauce and a pistachio macaron. I had a cool shower after; I honestly felt like I'd just had really good sex. I've only ever enjoyed a meal like that maybe once before in my life. And that was in Italy.

I was surprised by Provence. I've always seen images of rolling lavender fields. What they don't show you are the winding mountain roads and dense forests that surround those fields. My little car kept climbing, back tracking, and switching back over these twisting mountain roads until when I finally thought I would never make it, I crested the top of the mountain and looked down upon a carpet of lavender. The valley was blanketed in purple. There aren't too many times I can remember being speechless. I reached the tiny town of Sault on Bastille Day, so there was a lot going on in this tiny hilltop town. The church was open to visitors, with huge vaulted ceilings. There was a small festival going on for the holiday. I stopped at the cheese shop for some lovely goat cheese with lavender. Found a nougatier selling lavender flavored meringues. I sat with my little picnic and a small bottle of rose wine looking out onto the town square as they lived it up for Bastille Day. When the sun set, the valley was ablaze with fireworks. There was a concert somewhere, because it echoed up and down the valley. The next day I drove up and down the valley, around and around the winding roads just taking in the sights and smells of the lavender fields. The farms weren't open yet because the lavender wasn't quite ready to be harvested. I had wanted to paint, but it was too damn windy and chilly. Yes, chilly. A temperature I no longer seem to be familiar with or prepared for. There is a small grey 11th century abbey nestled in one of the steep valleys in Provence called Abbaye de Senanque. Grey stone surrounded by an ocean of purple. I happened to be there on a Sunday just in time for services. Huge ceilings, tall columns, and high windows, with plain wooden chairs for seating. The service was in French, so I couldn't understand a word. However, the singing was worth sitting through the service. Ever hear Gregorian chant? Yeah, it was like that. Their voices reverberated through the medieval hall. It was worth almost driving off a cliffside on a one way road to get there just to hear that.

I met my mother in Paris a few days later on the Viking riverboat cruise. We saw Notre Dame, which I could just sit outside and take in the ghoulish and saintly faces peering at me from all corners of the facade on every side. There was a guided tour of the Louvre, and I'm glad to say I did it and saw the Mona Lisa and Winged Victory but it was so crowded I really wouldn't do it again unless I could be guaranteed a little breathing room. I have to say that I did see the Eiffel Tower, but felt no need to climb it. I was quite satisfied with a view from the distance. I have to say, I was just so glad to be with my mom. I was so lonely by the ninth day that I just couldn't wait to turn in the car and run to meet her. I'd reached my limit for independent travel and wanted my mommy :) The cruise was very peaceful, you can see so much sailing down the river. Old towns and churches, river traffic, houseboats, and mansions that I swore only existed in movies. Rouen was like a smaller version of Paris. We took a walking tour of town and saw the old Gothic church, and then had the pleasure of seeing Monet's paintings of it in the city's art museum. One of the highlights of that trip for me was seeing the Bayeaux tapestry. Glad that my mom was as keen to see it as I was! Woohoo! The largest piece of embroidery, a little over a foot wide and about 250 long. The audio guide keeps one moving rather fast, but it explains each stage of the events that unfolded before, during, and directly after the battle of Hastings. Supposedly it was commissioned by William the Conqueror's brother Odo. They believe it was done in a workshop in England, but it is not known by who or how many people worked on it. I was amazed at how bright the colors are hundreds of years after it was produced. We met some lovely people on the cruise, had some very nice food including frogs' legs, escargot (snails) and filet mignon. We ate well, and I could feel myself putting a bit of weight on. Oh damn, it was fun. It was splendid to be experiencing these things with my mom, and the time we spent together will be something I will use as one of my happy thoughts :)

French people? Friendly, helpful, polite, don't know why people say they're so rude. They don't seem to know how to queue, but they are not the only culture to not know how to wait their turn. Perhaps this was because we didn't come into contact with many Parisians ;) Still, we did run into a rude man but he worked at the airport. I'm pretty sure working at the airport trumped the rude Parisian card. He was simply rude because he worked at the airport!

It was a wonderful experience, both exploring on my own and with my mother. There are upsides to travelling alone, because you're on your own time and can do whatever you want. Linger however long you want, eat when and where you wish, and take everything in at your own pace. The downside is that when you see something cool, there's no one to share it with. There were so many times when I wished with all my heart that those I love were with me. I'm glad the trip was balanced out with some awesome Mom-and-Me time. At this point, I think I'm kind of over seeing things by myself and would love to share more of my experiences with friends and family. It's been wonderful for my family and friends who have been able to join be abroad. Hopefully, we'll get to enjoy more travelling together :)